


Extracurricular

by maeraecopes, theminiummark



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Coach Geno, Coach Sid, Fluff, History Teacher Sid, M/M, Teacher Geno, students find out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-13 20:25:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7135817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeraecopes/pseuds/maeraecopes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theminiummark/pseuds/theminiummark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ex·tra·cur·ric·u·lar<br/>ˌekstrəkəˈrikyələr/<br/>adjective: of an activity at a school or college) pursued in addition to the normal course of study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extracurricular

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Asteramie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Asteramie).



> For Asteramie! I hope you enjoy this, as I had a lot of fun writing it and working with your prompts. I went with your third optional prompt where you asked for: High school teacher/College lecturer AU: the summer holiday is over and it's time for teachers to go to school and start planning lessons beforehand. The start of a new semester always means some new faces in the teacher's room and this year is not an exception. Sidney immediately finds himself attracted to the new Russian language teacher. I hope it does not disappoint. 
> 
> Many thanks to Hazel_3017 for being my beta and helping me keep my tenses right and giving me great ideas to help me develop and finish this. Also to shmorgas for encouragement and a keen eye for detail, and for my eternal cheerleader and all around great friend ananon23 for helping me have the faith to complete this!

 

Sid glares at the coffee machine with resigned defeat. The first period of the week starts in five minutes, and he’d skipped making his own coffee at home in exchange for a few extra minutes of sleep and with the idea that he’d just get his much-needed caffeine at school.

So, naturally, the pot in the teacher’s lounge is empty.

Typical. Fucking typical. There’s always that one person that polishes off the coffee and refuses to make more. He looks mournfully at his empty mug again before glancing hopefully at the clock. Nope, still no way another pot will be ready in time for him to make it to his class. He has an example to set, caffeine or no caffeine.

“You need some help?”

A warm, booming voice rings around the teacher’s lounge, abruptly bringing him out of his uncaffeinated haze.  

Sid squints his eyes up at his much too boisterous colleague for this hour. _How_ was he so energetic? He’d been up almost as late as Sid the night before.

“Geno,” he sighs with a rather despondent glance. He doesn’t have the energy for him this morning—fuck, he doesn’t have the energy for anything this morning. He tries not to think about his lesson plan for the day and heavily considers pulling a pop quiz out of his ass for his first period freshmen.

“You look like shit,” Geno says, chirping him gently. Sid throws him the bird tiredly.

“There’s no coffee,” Sid whines right as the warning bell rings. His shoulders droop and he sighs heavily. “It’s the best part of the day. This is your fault, you know,” he grumbles as he leaves, dragging his feet behind him, and shaking his finger at Geno. “You kept me so long last night, going over plays. I stayed up way too long grading.”

His voice trails off as he turns the corner, still grumbling, Geno looking after him with a thoughtful look on his face.

~~

The thorough and well thought plan for his freshmen had been an in-depth discussion of the effects of WWI and the League of Nations, but Sid’s barely keeping up with attendance, let alone trying to teach a bunch of fifteen-year-olds important dates and peace talks. So he reads off his outline as he writes it out on the board and then assigns them more pages than he intended to in their world history book.

He sits at his desk for a few minutes, his eyes closed and head tipped back, before he pulls out the grading he didn’t finish over the weekend.

What he is really doing is drawing hockey plays in the margins of his attendance book and trying to delude himself that by the time he makes it to his free period, he won’t even need coffee anymore.

This is what he gets for staying up late to grade papers after that weekend’s road game. His seniors better be grateful.

Then a sudden, should-be-called-pounding-not-knocking comes at the door that turns not only Sid’s head, but all of his students’ as well.

Sid stands, motioning the class back to their reading, not that he’s successful. He’s not expecting anything, and he hopes it’s not something administrative and important. He’s _not_ expecting Geno, his big hand curled around a to-go cup while he hesitates in the doorway, as if he just now realizes how much of an entrance he’s made. He almost visibly shakes off the discomfort, though, and hands Sid the cup with a smile that makes students simultaneously respect and fall in love with him.

He winks at Sid - _winks! -_ and then leaves with a jaunty wave as unexpectedly as he came, two dozen pairs of eyes glued to him the entire time. Sid watches him go, lips parted in surprise, and then looks at the cup in curiosity. He knows immediately from the heavenly smell that it’s coffee, and not the crappy kind that comes from the teacher’s lounge either. It’s from Timmy’s on the corner, and Sid vaguely remembers that Geno has a free period first thing on Mondays.

His lips curl into a smile as he takes a sip, eyes closing at the blissful taste of coffee. He sighs, feeling completely rejuvenated by that first taste alone. As he closes the door and turns back to his class, he feels his mood lightening all over. He starts to reconsider the lesson he had planned for the day. But he figures he’ll let his freshmen off the hook. Since he’s in such a good mood, he doesn’t give them any homework, either. He’s not so gone in his caffeinated daze that he doesn’t catch the look that passes between Bryan and Tom from the corner of his eye, two of his freshmen and forwards of the hockey team, but he dismisses it. Nothing can bring him down now. His smile lasts the rest of the period.

~~

Sid, later that week and no longer caffeine deprived, decides to repay the favor during his free period. There’s a sandwich place that Geno is obscenely obsessed with, and Sid uses the hour he usually uses to catch up on grading and hockey paperwork to head the three blocks over. He orders what he usually sees Geno eating, and by the time he’s back on campus, there are only a few minutes left in the period. While Sid could wait until lunch to deliver Geno’s sandwich, he once again decides to return the favor and drops by Geno’s classroom.

His knock is much more respectful, which explains why Geno is still mid-sentence when Sid slowly opens the door and slips in. Geno doesn’t hear him. In fact, Geno doesn’t even seem to notice him.

The same can’t be said for several of the students, however. They pick up on Sid’s sneaky movements like a pack of hungry wolves, not that Sid can blame them. Russian must be difficult.

That doesn’t stop him from watching Geno teach. It’s completely enthralling to see Geno in front of a classroom. Outside it, Geno is goofy and a little bit lazy, joking with the staff. With his students, and Sid’s favorite part of this job, on the ice, he is intense and passionate.

When they’d first met at one of the staff meetings before the start of the year, Sid had had a hard time imagining him as a teacher at all. That is, until he had offhandedly mentioned hockey; there are few things more awe-inducing and inspiring than Evgeni Malkin worked up over something he’s passionate about.

For instance, Geno is intently walking his small class through a conversation in Russian.

Geno asks a question, waiting patiently as his students work out what he asked and determine their answer.

Sidney hides his grin as he moves as unobtrusively as he can to the back of the classroom to where Geno’s desk is situated. He sits in Geno’s chair, and his eyes move from Geno’s expectant and encouraging look to the bright faces of his students. They are obviously working hard, but Sid is a definite distraction keeping them from making good headway. A few of them seem to be following along by the skin of their teeth, and one girl at the front of the class with a high voice cautiously comes up with an answer.

Geno lights up. “Yes, very good!”

Sid knows from experience that teachers live for these moments. When just one kid takes the knowledge they so passionately offer, the one student who blossoms with the same passion, that makes every moment worth it.

And Geno, well, he takes it to a completely new level, as if he has an inner light completely fueled by his students’ participation. Sidney can’t help the fond smile that takes over his face.

The bell rings, right in the middle of Geno’s explanation of homework.

“Memorize passage two on page forty-five, quiz next week. We practice on Friday!” Geno booms out as the students scramble to pack up and head to lunch.

“Mr. Crosby,” says one of the students in surprise—it’s a boy from his first period, one of the studious, yet more observant kid from his sophomore class. Also the second line winger on the team.

“Conor,” Sid greets pleasantly, and watches as he shoots a look from him to Geno and back again, opening his mouth to ask a question before seeming to think better of it.  

Sid’s eyebrow quirks up in amusement, but before Conor can change his mind and ask anyway, Geno has walked over with a mock scowl on his face and a demanding, “You need something?”

With an apologetic smile to his student, who is then quickly rushed out of the classroom by Tom and Bryan, the remaining group of loud and brash teenage boys, Sid holds up his prize, rolling his eyes at Geno’s grumpy front. “I brought lunch.”

Geno stares at him a few seconds longer, long enough that the last straggling students have slung their backpacks over their shoulders and have hurried out the door, before he lets the look drop with a sigh and an eye-roll.

“My hero, Sid!” he says once they’re alone, grinning, before pinning him with a look. “But, my chair, Sid. You think because you bring me food, you get best chair?”

And Sid laughs and gets up, moving to close and lock the door as he goes. This is routine for them. They usually end up eating lunch in one of their classrooms. They had started meeting behind closed doors ever since they became aware of the dirty looks they got from their coworkers when they talked hockey shop at the teacher's’ table.

Now they can talk as much hockey shop as they want and be comfortable as they do, with no prying eyes from students or staff. Sidney smiles as he watches Geno eat with gusto, starting in on his own sandwich. A content, easy silence fills the space between them, making Sid reluctant to leave once the lunch period is over.

~~

Nothing _seems_ out of the ordinary, which is probably why the question catches Sid completely off guard during hockey practice over a week later. They’re in the middle of a passing drill, and Sid is distracted, watching Geno chirp their goalies as they practice blocking shots from him.

Sid has Conor sidled close on his right side, before Bryan and Tom snow to a stop on his left. Sid can’t help but be a little amused, waiting for them to talk; it’s obvious the three of them have something they have cooked up. Expecting a new trick play that they want to try, he is completely taken aback at what comes out of Tom’s mouth.

“Is it true that you’re dating Coach Malkin?” he asks, and immediately Bryan covers Tom’s face with his glove, glaring at his sputtering before turning horrified eyes to Sid.

“That’s not exactly -” Conor starts, before catching the look on Sid’s face. He had gone still, staring at Tom as if he had gone mad. _Well_ , Sid thinks, _at least hockey is never boring._

Recouping his dignity in the only way he knows how in this moment, he says, “Well, since you boys have enough breath to be asking such invasive questions, I think a bag skate is in order. To get your conditioning up.” He bares his teeth at them.

Conor and Bryan groan, shoving and chirping Tom as Sid blows his whistle and announces the drill. The rest of Tom’s teammates don’t let him off the hook, either, grumbling as they line up and take off at the sharp burst from Sid’s whistle. That’s the best way to shut them up.

He glances at Geno as he skates up next to him. Geno doesn’t say anything then, but he knows they will be having a discussion about Sid’s impromptu bag skate later.

~~

“Tom asked me if we’re dating,” Sid brings up over lunch the next day, picking at last night’s leftovers as he waits for Geno’s reaction.

It takes a few minutes to come, and Sid finds himself staring Geno down as if that might draw it out faster. Geno just slowly chews his food, swallows, and then doesn’t even look Sid in the eye when he asks, “Tom thinks you date him?”

Sid balls up a napkin and throws it at him, and Geno catches it and grins a shark grin.

“Thinks that _we_ are dating. As in, me and you,” Sid clarifies, not that he thinks Geno needs it. Asshole. Geno had known exactly what he meant the first time he said it. Sid is on to him.

“Huh.” Geno chews. “Matty asked me, too.”

“Our goalie Matty?” Actually, Sid, thinks, that kind of makes sense.

“Know any other Matty?” Geno asks with a raised brow.

“Huh.” Sid’s eyebrows furrow, and he purses his lips as he thinks. “What the hell?” he mutters under his breath. Had they planned this somehow? How had the idea even gotten into their heads?

“Smart boys. I mean, goalies always crazy no matter what age, but have good eyes.”

This time, Sid kicks Geno in the ankle.

Because they are dating, and Sid has no idea how any of their students figured it out. Most of the staff doesn’t even know. They’re pretty modest about it at school. Yes, they talk and eat lunch together, but they’re the hockey head coach and assistant. They need to talk a lot. Not to mention, a lot of teachers are friends, and Sid and Geno were friends first. Sort of. In that bickering, chirping turning into flirting kind of way.

And then they’d both gotten a little tipsy at a pre-season planning night at Sid’s house. And then they’d gotten to talk about hockey and family and their pasts. One thing led to another, and before he knew it, Sid was confessing how much Geno’s friendship meant to him and how attractive he was to Sid, and Geno’s mouth was on his and...the rest of the night is still a bit of a blur now, but Sid knows it led to making out and rutting against each other on his bed and waking the next morning tangled up in each other.

And that led to dating, after one serious conversation over coffee later. It’s been six months since then, and they thought no one had been the wiser to their relationship. Geno isn’t out to anyone, at home in Russia or here, and although he doesn’t talk about it much, Sid knows that it is a sensitive subject. They have an unspoken agreement to keep the extent of their relationship quiet and private.

“Stop think so much, Sid. Get wrinkles on pretty face.”

“I’m not thinking too much. There’s nothing to think over. Why aren’t you thinking about this?” Sid runs a hand through his hair, and Geno is quick to catch it.

“Hey, hey. Sid. What are a few teenage boys going to do? Especially ones that look up to you. Yes?” Geno looks at Sid with a gently teasing grin, and Sid glances away, trying not to smile back. “Far as I see, they are just trying to - mix up? Mix _you_ up. Stop worrying.”

When he puts it like that, it makes sense. Sid remembers being a teenager, specifically a curious, hormone riddled one.  The idea of a relationship, or even just sex, between two teachers could be the most interesting thing happening in their social sphere.

“But, what do you want to do about it?”

Sid knows Geno is taking his question seriously, as no quick comeback came. He chewed thoughtfully for a while, before nodding decisively to himself.

“Just leave alone, for now,” Geno says, looking at Sid, smiling a little. “Let’s see what they do. If gets out of hand, you can talk to them. For now, just kids being little shits.” He lifts another forkful of pasta, and waves it admonishingly at Sid. “Stop worrying,” he says again, this time chiding, before stuffing the pasta into his mouth.

“You’re right,” Sid admits, defeated.

“I’m best,” Geno says around a mouthful of pasta, chest puffed out. It would be disgusting if Sid didn’t find it so endearing. “Now eat that, before I do.”

~~

Even if Sid’s team doesn't have any solid proof, it doesn’t stop them from trying to get it. They’re persistent. They try to goad him into talking about Geno almost constantly in his classes, and every time Sid diverts the topic as if the invasive question was never asked in the first place. There are knowing looks at practice too, but that just gives him the excuse to work them so hard they can’t even skate straight, let alone chirp.  

It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so annoying, because there starts to be a pretty clean divide on the team between the top two forward lines that is insistent that something is going on between him and Coach Malkin, and the rest of the team that just wishes the others would shut the fuck up because they’re tired of all the bag skates and extra drills Sid has been piling on them as retribution from the lack of respect for personal boundaries.

But the frustration, and honestly the strain that it was putting on the team, is what makes Sid finally break. It happens one night, when Tom asks the inevitable question for what feels like the 100th time in the change between the team meeting and suiting up for the ice.

“There is nothing going on between Coach Malkin and I,” Sid says tiredly, and the fact that he’s actually acknowledging the question instead of outright ignoring it stops the usual chirps. “Much like I’m sure you and all of your friends do, we do nice things for each other, like taking turns paying for coffee or lunch. We eat that lunch together. We “hang out,” and no that is not a dick joke.” Sid sees Conor and Bryan, lurking at the door to the locker room, turning to each other and mouth _dick joke_ in delight. He fights the urge to roll his eyes very, very hard. “Now can we put these invasive questions and rumors to rest, please? It’s not appropriate, and it’s none of your business. Hockey is your business. That is what you should be worried about.”

Surprisingly, that works. Well, as well as it could work. They at least stop asking questions, even if Sid does still see them nudging each other when Sid and Geno skate close to each other, heads close to talk about line combinations.

Sid is sure to be extra careful around Geno at the school for the next few weeks, just to be sure that all of the nosing into his private life is done for good, but everything eventually does settle—as much as a high school can. Sid knows that the more time that passes, something more interesting will capture their attention.

It’s such a relief, not having to think about how he acts around Geno at school, finally. Especially as Geno was particularly put out about it. Sid would be lying if he said he didn’t miss kissing Geno behind their classroom doors, or their after practice one-on-one skates that tend to get a little heated. But now that things are settled back to normal, Sid feels as though he can breathe again.

~~

They decide to go out for once, which is rare because they are both homebodies. Especially with how careful they had been lately. Sid’s paranoia that they would be seen by a student or faculty member is finally silent after a few weeks of no questions. They have just finished the season, the team having done well at coming in second in the state final, so Sid feels they have ample reason to celebrate.

And the fact that Geno seems highly suspicious is not going to detract Sid from the sudden good mood he finds himself in.

“Come on, let’s celebrate, eh?” Sid presses, and Geno just raises his eyebrows and doesn’t say anything. Well, okay, it’s not Geno’s fault they’ve been cooped up behind closed doors with Netflix and game consoles and marathon sex for the last few months (not that he heard any complaining).

Geno also doesn’t seem surprised that Sid drives them to a restaurant clear on the other side of town, but he just scoffs quietly to himself in Russian instead of chirping Sid outright, which Sid very much appreciates. But it all seems forgiven when they are shown to a booth in the corner, and Sid crowds in next to Geno on the same side, sliding his hand down his thigh.

It’s a cozy little place, not really romantic, but homey, with good food and better beer. They sit close to each other and laugh and talk and eat and Sid lets Geno steal food off of his plate because he can’t ever decide on what he wants. They hold hands over the table, Geno’s thumb brushing tenderly over Sid’s knuckles.

All in all, it would have been a very perfect evening, with Geno warm and solid against him, and the alcohol making Sid loose and fuzzy with happiness.

Sid is toying with the idea of ordering dessert, but instead he picks up his and Geno’s joined hands and presses a delicate kiss to the center of Geno’s palm, noting the smoldering fire in Geno’s eyes. Screw desert, they need the check. Time for the real celebration to start.

It must have been something he did to someone in a past life that in that moment, Sid makes sudden, inexplicable eye contact with someone across the restaurant. Someone that he recognizes.

Sid freezes mid-kiss as Conor meets his eyes. He can see the moment Conor recognizes who he is, his eyes widening as he takes in what Sid is doing and with whom he is doing it with.

“Shit,” Sid hisses, because he’s looking at none other than Conor Sheary, one third of the boys that have been driving him insane. Caught, doing the very thing he had denied.  

Sid tries to reason himself out of his panic. Dinner with the assistant coach? Explainable. Talking and laughing? Totally normal. Holding hands all night? Not typical. Kissing your assistant coach’s hand, though? Yeah, that...can not even remotely be construed as normal, friendly behavior.

And it’s not like dating Geno is against any kind of rule. It’s not like either of them are going to get fired. Damnit. He and Geno have kept things quiet to avoid this very thing. They want to set a good example - be professional. He tries to reign in his panic as he extracts his hand from Geno’s and stares down at the table.

“Sid?” Geno asks, and Sid just shakes his head. It’s Geno’s turn to lose the levity as his face turns down into a frown in concern. He practically hunts down their waiter to pay the bill. As they leave, Sid takes a peek at Conor from the corner of his eyes and sees him looking down at his plate, deep in thought.

Sid drives them home, taking the time and familiar rhythm of the road to calm him down.  

As they pull into Sid’s driveway, Geno turns to look at him.

“Why we leave so soon, Sid? Not having a good time?”

“Geno! Conor saw us!”

Geno laughs at him, relief coloring the sound. “Big deal, Sid? The way you acted, I thought…” Geno shakes his head. Sid starts to get put out that Geno is obviously not taking this as seriously as he is. He pouts a little, crossing his arms.

“What?”

“I don’t know. Thought maybe you were mad at me,” Geno shrugs. “That I did something wrong.”

Sid stays quiet at that, because looking at how he reacted from Geno’s perspective, that was a lot worse than a member of their team seeing them on a date.

“When I go into class on Monday, they’re all going to know about us. They’re all going to know I lied about it. Shit, by the end of the day, the whole school is going to know we’re together.”

“Maybe. Probably.” Geno still doesn’t sound concerned at all. Sid glares at him.

“We like to keep us apart from students, yes? But maybe this thing not so big deal. It’s not like we tell them everything we do behind closed doors.” He punctuates his little speech with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a shit-eating grin that Sid can’t help smile back at.  

“But, G, you - we always keep things quiet…” Sid tries to explain his concern for Geno, but is failing miserably. “What about Russia?”

Geno scoffs, reaching out and cupping the back of Sid’s neck with his warm, big hand. “What about Russia? Little high school boy not going to do anything to keep me from Russia. Or from job here. Stop worrying so much.”

Sid sighs, nodding a little, feeling silly now that Geno has made an excellent point.

“See, that’s better,” Geno says, opening his door and walking around the front of the car to open Sid’s. “Now, you come make up for giving me heart attack.”

Sid grumbles good naturedly, but follows Geno into the house. It is hard to let go of his fears for Monday, though, even if Geno’s words made him feel a little bit better about it all.

~~

Monday arrives, bright and sunny, and Sid squares his shoulders smartly as he heads to his first period class. He wishes he were bold enough to have Geno walk in with him, clasped hands declaring the truth before any rumors, or worse, confrontations from the staff start happening.

Sid waits for it all day. He waits for it as he goes over the reading assignment from the weekend. He waits for it as he starts the lesson on the Great Depression. And he waits for it as he hands out their geography tests, completely stunned as he sits down at his desk and not one of his students utters a word about his personal life.

After lunch comes the true test, though. He has Conor in the period right after the break. He glances at Conor as he comes to class like any other Monday and sits in the second to last row, and wonders if maybe he was mistaken. Maybe Sid’s eyes played a trick on him that night, and it wasn’t actually Conor that he saw, but some other random kid that just looked like him and had just been embarrassed for getting caught looking.

Maybe Sid has just overreacted.  

Fuck, when Geno finds out, he is going to laugh his ass off. Sid is never living this down.

But then Conor glances up and catches Sid’s eyes, and gives him a very small smile and a little nod, and Sid almost laughs.

Well, he had been wrong - not in that he had mistakenly freaked out over some random kid. No, he was wrong in assuming that one of his students, one of the boys on his team, was going to spread details of his personal life all over the school.

When Sid is grading his homework later, he gives Connor five bonus points. Just because.

But Sid knows better than to think it was all over. He knows as conscientious Conor may be to the rest of the school, there still is the rest of the team and Conor’s partners in mischief. Rather than leave his personal life to the whims of teenage boys, Sid decided to take the offensive route, and asks each boy the next time he sees them, to come to the coach’s office after class.

~~

Sid is expecting the knock that comes when he and Geno are in the coaches offices in the depths of the rink. They are small and drafty, so they don’t tend to spend much time there, if they can help it.

He and Geno are taking the time to go over the season as a whole and think about what the new freshman could bring to the lineup next year. At the moment, Sid is needling Geno to write up his recommendation letters for their graduating seniors.

Both of them stop their conversation, sharing a knowing look. Sid had filled him in on the invitation to the boys, and they were both interested in how they would react. Sid folds his arms over his chest, before calling out, “Come in!”

Conor peaks his head around the door, before the rest of his body followed. Also following, are his boisterous partners in mischief, Bryan and Tom. Conor starts with a smile, before looking down nervously at his feet when Sid’s expression doesn’t change. Geno isn’t giving anything up, either, his face clowdy and made stormy with his heavy brow. Bryan and Tom didn’t help Conor’s case. Walking into the office, their eyes are glued to the floor.

“What can Coach Malkin and I help you with?” Sid asks firmly.

“Uh, well, um…” Conor starts, gulping nervously. “I - _we_ , wanted to apologize.” He glances up at Sid through his lashes, in the most overt puppy-eyed look Sid has ever seen. Raising his brows in an effort to keep from smiling, he motions for Conor to continue.

When all he gets is a confused look, Sid sighs and says, “Why are you apologizing?”

This time, Tom steps up. “We are sorry for making such a big deal about your relationship. Conor said that you really are together, and well, we were kinda shitty to you -”

Sid holds his hand up to stop the rambling. His boys have their hearts in the right place, even if their heads haven’t quite caught up yet.

“Thank you for apologizing,” he begins. “Do you know now why it was inappropriate?”

“It’s none of our business?” Bryan tried, still keeping his eyes down.

Sidney nods and continues, “That, and, some people aren’t ready to share that part of their life with everyone, yet. Whether it’s their sexuality or a new relationship, we shouldn’t put pressure on anyone to share a part of them that they don’t offer, right?”

All three boys’ eyes lock on Sid’s.

“Coach Malkin and I are counting on you three to be our leaders, both on the ice and in the room. This is a good opportunity to prove to us that you can do that.”

Sid nods as he sees them straighten their postures and firm their jaws.

Geno speaks before Sid can say anything else, “This not something all teams except, yeah? Having two coaches as boyfriends is big deal. We need to welcome everyone. Yes? You do this?”

The boys all nod so enthusiastically, Sid starts to worry about whiplash.

“Good,” he says. “Now, shoo. Go make trouble somewhere else.”

The boys all grin at each other, and of course getting through the doorway becomes a wrestling match, but Sid and Geno are soon alone again.

Sid allows himself to smile and turns to look at Geno. He finds Geno beaming back at him, looking like a proud papa.

“Sid,” Geno says, smile growing smug. “Best Coach.”

Sid just laughs and swats at him. “Enough distractions!” he laughs, his whole body feeling lighter for it. “You really need to write that letter to Michigan!”

Geno groans dramatically, burying his face in his crossed arms on the desk.

“Sid, you worst coach!”

Sidney just laughs.

 


End file.
